by Jimmy Guieu
Every Polarian base in the solar system—permanent planetary bases as well as mobile astrobases—was bustling with activity.
600 miles from Earth on astrobase 2, Fohag, the Wolfian, in the presence of the other chiefs or officers, Wolfian, Polarian and Centaurian, from the Space Commandos, presided over a meeting of utmost importance.
The main headquarters of the Galactic Forces of the Federated Worlds had informed Fohag of the visit of a very important person belonging to the general staff but whose identity could not be revealed. Wielding almost absolute power he was going to come in person to astrobase 2—the seat of the general staff operating in this solar system—to give the ultra-secret orders he had in hand.
In the huge, circular room of the artificial satellite, the three types of extra-terrestrial beings waited impatiently for the arrival of this mysterious special envoy. Soon the door to the wide central corridor opened and in stepped Honky, chief of the Information Service, who respectfully bowed away in front of a Polarian, dressed like him in a light gray spacesuit. Inside the transparent helmet his face was totally hidden by a black, plastic mask with only two holes for his eyes.
The stranger, followed by Honky, approached Fohag and saluted him by raising his right hand. The Wolfian responded in kind and invited him to sit behind the rectangular panel covered with all kinds of controls and unusual devices.
“Excuse me for coming to this meeting wearing a mask,” the enigmatic envoy began in a deep voice distorted by the suit’s microphone. “This precaution is necessary because the Denebians appear to have investigative means whose exact nature we are unaware of. And at no cost can they know my identity. I’ve been appointed by the Supreme Chief of the Space Forces of the Federated Worlds to bring you extremely important orders.
“First of all, because of the primitives’ state of mind, not yet ready to accept our visit, we are forced to postpone our official contact with T27 for at least two years. Our fleeting intrusions and the psychological tests that result will start again in around two years, I mean for the Earthlings, in June of July of 1956 of their main calendar because these primitives use several types of calendars each as inexact as the others.
“This two-year break is indispensable. Moreover, we know for sure that the Denebians and Procyionians are ready to launch an expeditionary force on T27 to subjugate the inhabitants and very soon. Therefore, we have to wait two years and do all we can to prevent this invasion of Earth or any other planet in the system.
“It appears to be a no-win situation. If we continue our visits on T27 and our demonstration flights to prove to the Earthlings that extra-terrestrial beings are watching them, we’ll end up looking like invaders. Then the battles that are fought in space and maybe on T27 between our enemies and us will unleash an indescribable panic among the primitives. In fact, they will see no difference between the Denebians and us and will put flying saucers in the category of evil, hostile machines come from space to conquer them… Not to mention the awful destruction that will result on Earth from the confrontation between our enemies and us.
“Therefore, the supreme command that I am spokesman for has decided first of all to reinforce the defense of the solar system by creating, on every planet, a huge defense system with not just traditional weapons but also a new weapon of extraordinary power, an ultra-secret weapon called Negmat, short for Negative Matter. The negative matter, or reversed matter, is built backwards in a way. Where the usual nucleus of atoms is charged positively, in this matter the nucleus is charged negatively and the electrons of the reversed matter have a positive charge. So, at the very moment when the negative matter strikes regular matter, an incredible explosion results.24
“This negative matter is the atomic component of a some distant galaxies that we’ve reached very recently thanks to spaceships specially built to fly in ‘negative zones’ compared to the ‘positive’ components of most galaxies like our own. In our ships made of ‘neutral’ matter we can hold a certain quantity of negative matter, for example a simple block of metal from these distant galaxies, and come back into positive zones without anything happening as long as its charge is protected by the neutral casing of its transporter. But if it gets near some strategic target and we free the negative matter, it’ll shoot off at lightning speed towards the target and disintegrate all positive matter in a range of 60,000 miles, depending on how much there is, without any way to defend against it. This weapon is absolutely unparalleled. And it is invulnerable.
“There are negative charges of different sizes adapted to all circumstance, able to be used against an enemy squadron as well as an entire planet…”
Everyone was silent, stupefied by the unimaginable, destructive capabilities. Seeing the general bewilderment the spokesman continued.
“Yes, this extraordinary weapon, able to pulverize a planet, a solar system, even an entire galaxy, really exists! We’ll be able, if we want, to wipe out the solar system of the Procyonians and Denebians but we hope that such desperate measures won’t be necessary. We’re thinking that a demonstration of our power will be enough to extinguish the desire of conquest of our relentless enemies.
“When I say ‘demonstration of our power’ I’m not being exact because more than a demonstration it’s an action that we’ve undertaken against the Denebians. You will know the results when we tell you the nature of this action. For the moment, it’s a matter of defending against any eventuality. In two Sfangs a squadron transporting Negmat spheres will arrive here and create a depot for this weapon on every planet. All our bases will be armed, including the astrobases. Special instructions will be left on board these bases to teach the technicians how to handle the Negmat. The spheres are basically nothing but psycho-guided spacecraft or rockets that our mechano-psychic machines can push to the speed of thought or absolute speed.
“By working the controls correctly you just have to think the trajectory and the chosen target and the sphere of Negmat will hit it instantly and explode, disintegrating everything in range of its particular size.”
In the swarm of stars of the Galaxy ten giant spaceships, almost half a mile long and 300 feet in diameter, were heading for the solar system that the Space Commandos defended. On board were hundreds of Negmat spheres of all sizes being transported to the Polarian bases set up on or near the nine planets of the system.
Leaving from Khoda—the home planet of the Polarians orbiting the sun called the Pole Star by the inhabitants of T27—after a five-hour trip at speeds far superior to that of light, the space squadron had just entered the pull of the farthest planet of the solar system that was being targeted by the Denebians: Pluto.
One of the giant spaceships veered off and headed for this small, frozen planet while the other ships separated, each following a different route to the eight other planets where they were going to set up defense bases.
One of the ships changed the strength of its gravito-magnetic field to counterbalance the force that Jupiter pulled, its destination point, the giant of the string of planets. The colossal globe of Jupiter, with its 87,000-mile diameter, seemed to swell up immensely as the ship approached. The different colored bands of its thick atmosphere blocked any clear observation of its surface. As the cloud covering thinned around the equator an oblong smear of huge dimensions appeared: the famous red spot of Jupiter, which intrigued so many astronomers on T27.
Slowing down considerably and increasing the intensity of its gravito-magnetic field, the giant spaceship emerged in the few clouds over the red spot, a thinner atmosphere than the gaseous layers surrounding the planet.
This red spot was really a gigantic continent around 30,000 miles long and 6,000 miles wide, floating on an ocean composed of layers of gas piled on top of each other. The core of Jupiter was made up of a great variety of ice fields under unimaginable pressure.
An atmosphere of hydrogen in the middle of which drifted clouds of ammonia, methane and other partially liquefied gases blanketed this enormous planet. These m
ixed gases produced different bands of color, from milky white to light green through vermillion and brown, that perpetually streaked the globe in slightly slanted strata.
The red continent floating on the ocean of gas looked like a gigantic platform of frozen ammonia riddled with tortured peaks, with darker stains fading to red. On the surface a thick layer of vermillion crystal gave it the red color through the atmosphere, confusing the imagination by its contrast and its persistence on a world apparently made up of liquid and viscous matter.
The spaceship landed gently on a relatively level area not far from a transparent dome protecting the Polarian base. The rays of the sun, 500 million miles away at this time, gave only a dim light to this orb frozen at a temperature close to -135C.
A lateral hatch opened in the side of the giant ship and a long metal ramp descended to the ground. Dressed in their pressurized, air-conditioned and gravity-regulated spacesuits the Polarian technicians appeared at the top of the ramp, 200 feet above the ground. 30 of them slid down the polished metal of the gravito-magnetic conveyor belt and, once on the ground, headed for the base.
All of them were holding disintegrator machine guns in their gloves and advancing cautiously. All the cannons on the ship were also aimed at the airtight globe protecting the pyramid city.
The reason for this attitude lay in the fact that in spite of announcing its arrival the spaceship had received no answer. The officers on board, fearing a trap, had therefore decided to send a reconnaissance patrol covered by the powerful weapons of the ship.
Despite their paroptic vision the Polarians had been unable to probe the base from a distance. Such obliteration of their supra-normal vision had never happened before. So, they were right to fear the worst.
The patrol reached the decompression chamber and stopped short. The huge hatch that led to the entrance airlock and its farther door into the dome were broken, mangled and smashed. The decompression valve was now just an open passage open on both ends! Thus, the artificial atmosphere of the base had escaped, replaced immediately by torrents of ammonia and methane.
Entering the city by stepping over the wreckage the Polarians noticed that the temperature under the dome had dropped to 127C below zero. Therefore, it must have taken some time since the artificial air had been replaced by Jupiter’s gas for the 22C to drop down to the outside temperature.
It was on the astrodrome that the patrol found the first Polarian corpses. Petrified in positions of great suffering, the unfortunate victims had suffocated with the absorption of methane and ammonia. The sudden drop in temperature had then turned them into ice statues.
Since the base was almost exclusively inhabited by Polarians the artificial atmosphere was the same as their home planet, which allowed them to dispense with spacesuits. The few Wolfians and Centaurians of the city, from the fact that they kept their spacesuits on, must have escaped death.
Little by little as the scouts ventured down the streets of the city the number of corpses grew. Of the Centaurians and Wolfians, with or without spacesuits, they found no trace.
All of a sudden one of the scouts left the group and leaned over the body of a young Polarian woman, a beautiful blond cut down by death in a hideous grimace. She died choking on the gas, her eyes dilated, her mouth open, her right hand clutching her delicate neck. The fingers of her left hand had torn the thin blouse, probably trying desperately to loosen the grip of suffocation.
The Polarian’s companions, squatting beside him, sensed that the unfortunate girl was not a stranger to their friend, who sat bewildered and helpless. Tears of rage rolled down his tanned cheeks. Jaws clenched, grinding his teeth, he sobbed and said, “Ykluna was my partner…”
He tenderly caressed the young woman’s face and taking her hand that grasped her throat he tried to lower her rigid arm. The little effort he made to place the frozen arm along her side was enough to break it clean off at the elbow. He was stupefied. His tearful gaze went from the arm he was holding in his glove to the corpse of the girl he would no longer share his life with. His companions helped him stand up and simply told him they must continue their search.
The streets and lobbies of the buildings were piled with corpses turned blue from the cold, petrified in all positions with the stamp of intense physical pain on their faces.
“That’s why the doors didn’t close automatically,” one of the Polarians stated, walking in front and pointing at a huge room opened on the ground floor of a rectangular building. “The machines of the Climate Control Center were destroyed.”
The vast room cluttered with all kinds of machines, its walls covered with controls and instruments, looked like the site of a fierce battle. Polarian men and women, torn to pieces, were lying among the wreckage of their gutted, shattered machines that were rendered useless and unable to perform their vital functions for the population.
In the middle of the room, sitting on the ruins, was an iridescent metal cube in which they could see the inner electronics glowing colorfully.
The chief of the patrol, before approaching this weird contraption that he had never seen on any base, used his paroptic vision to study the mechanism. Right away he felt a sharp pain in his brain and instinctively backed away, cutting off his psychic waves.
“This device is a scrambler that interferes with our paroptic vision. It was left here by the Denebians after committing their crime.”
He aimed his disintegrator gun and fired. The colorful cube disappeared in the bright blue ray. On the ruins its base had left a black rectangle that seemed to fade into a smaller, greenish geometric shape.
Continuing their investigations the Polarians suddenly stopped, dumbfounded, at the corner of a street. In the lobby of a building with chrome metal walls the patrol saw a gray-blue form, luminescent, lying across the entrance. They approached silently.
A being, at least 13 feet tall, had collapsed in the lobby. Its soft head, ill-defined, had one blue-green, gelatinous eye in what could be called its forehead. Its mouth and nose formed a triple orifice at the top of a small trunk or snout. Its huge chest had three long arms on each side that ended in a kind of pincer with jaws, at first sight like a lobster.
Its two thick legs were almost cylindrical with blue bulging rings more phosphorescent than the rest of the body that wore no spacesuit. In its abdomen was a deep wound from which a trail of dark green blood had flowed, later congealing on its skin and on the metal floor of the building.
“A Procyonian!” the chief exclaimed. “It was these monsters from Procyon and not their Denebian allies who destroyed this base. Our enemies are becoming bolder of late. This is the third planetary base of this system that has suffered an attack, but it’s the only one that lost its entire population.”
“What’s this filthy creature doing in this building?” a Polarian wondered aloud.
A quick visit to the building told all. It was on the 17th floor, in a big room that the Wolfians and Centaurians of the city were found, suffocated to death after being tortured. For what obscure reason had the Procyonians brought them to this place? One of the victims must have managed, before dying, to inflict the mortal wound in the monster who had then dragged himself down to the lobby where the patrol had found him.
The reconnaissance group hurried back to the spaceship to send a message to HQ and then, with the help of the technicians, start on the repairs needed to make the base inhabitable again.
A small team immediately unloaded the Negmat spheres for defense while the rest of the crew of the giant spaceship got on with a particularly difficult task: the restoration of the Jupiter base.
The spaceships of V’kend, the grand chief of the Procyonians and of the generals’ staff summoned by K’wyil, the Denebian Emperor, had just landed in the astrodrome of Lycknah, the capital of the planet Ptopa, cradle of the scaly, green-skinned monsters.
The Procyonians, sympodic creatures able to live in extremely different physical conditions than on their home planet, left their spaceshi
ps—some spherical and others cigar-shaped—to meet their ally, K’wyil, Emperor of this world and master of many other solar systems.
Compared to them the Denebians whom they saw in the streets of Lucknah were like dwarves in spite of their height reaching six and a half feet. With a bouncing gait, their six arms hanging down with their multiple pincers, the Procyonians walked on, their bodies emitting a gray-blue bioluminescence, their blue-green eye opening and closing to a steady rhythm.
K’wyil welcomed them in his hexagonal palace with all the signs of the extreme courtesy even though deep down inside he found them disgusting and hideous. The Denebian Emperor led them into the big circular room in the middle of which Zimko, his chest scarred with horrible wounds, was still hanging from the ceiling by cables shackled at his wrists.
K’wyil invited V’kend and the 37 members of his general staff to sit with the senior officers, 43 of them, who were already in the first three rows encircling the room.
Zimko slowly raised his head, which had been sunk in his chest, and as far as his painful position allowed he looked around the assembly. All these monstrous beings made him feel nothing but disgust and hatred.
When the guests of honor were seated K’wyil stood up and approached the prisoner. “Now that my allies are present, I’ll give you one minute to keep your promise and tell us everything you know about the plans of your general staff.”
Zimko lowered his head as a sign of submission and started talking. “To respond to the first question you asked me yesterday, I can only give you a rough date. Contact with the inhabitants of T27 will be officially established two years from now, meaning in June or July 1956 T27 time. But this will happen only if we’re sure… (Zimko paused a moment before continuing)… we can keep you out of this solar system where we don’t want your attempts at invasion to cause battles that might destroy the primitive races of T27.”
“Before getting on with other details, tell us what this ultra-secret weapon is—the Negmat.”